


Dabbling in the Art of Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: BDSM, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Frottage, IDK fun stuff man, Light BDSM, M/M, Phone Sex, Smut, all the joys of drabbles in one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various, often smutty, sometimes fluffy,  short drabbles for our favorite cockbites. <br/>{{ often featuring prompts and kinks from kinkmemes/etc. }}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knotwork

Ray admires his handiwork with a flash of pride. The intricate knotwork is beautiful on Gavin’s flushed skin and his eyes are gleaming with excitement, expressing what the ball gag prevents his mouth from saying. He strokes the lad’s cheek fondly, smiles when he leans into it. 

"He’s very well trained," he comments off-handedly. Gavin sits a little straighter, a smile ghosting around the gag. He looks over his shoulder at Michael, who’s observing his pet with pride. 

"Wait till you see him in action," is the response he receives. He chuckles at this, strokes Gavin’s hair as he watches the Jersey boy step closer. He swears he hears purring. He threads his fingers through the fine hair and pulls, relishing the whimper behind the ball.

"Now that I’d like to see."


	2. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin receives a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - bdsm/smut. phonesex. }}

 

Gavin glances down at the phone in his pocket. He turns the telly on mute, pauses the game so he can answer.

“Hi Michael!” He greets.

“ _Do you know how fucking bad I want you right now?”_

The response is a surprise, and he pulls the phone away to look at it in disbelief. He swallows hard, puts it back up to his ear.

“Y-you do?”

“ _God, just wanna fuck you. Tie your hands behind your back. Like that, hmm? Feed you my cock like the hungry slut you are.”_

Gavin shifts, flushing at the thought of it. His fingers fidget on his thigh, bites his lip.

“ _Pin you down on the mattress. Facedown like you like it, fuck you till you’re screaming. If you’re lucky, you’ll lose your voice.”_

Gavin whimpers at the thought, hand creeping over to the quickly-growing bulge of his jeans. “Yes please, sir,” he manages into the phone.

“ _Maybe I should just keep you there. Tied down to the bed on your back. S’all you’re good for.”_

Gavin strokes himself through the denim, adds a quick, “Yes sir. All I’m good for.”

“ _Want me now, don’t you, whore? Want me to take you? Sit on my lap and ride me like the slut you are?”_

Gavin lets out little noises, sounds of desperation for more. He finally gives into his own need, practically ripping the button open and the zip down, tearing his underwear down to access his dick and grasp it. He lets out an appreciative moan, almost misses Michael’s voice.

“ _That’s right. Greedy slut. Always need it. Never get enough.”_

_  
_“Yeah, God yeah, please sir, pl-mmmnn,” Gavin thumbed the head, lost his train of thought. He puts the phone down, activates the speaker mode. Michael’s chuckle plays over it.

“ _Want more, do you? Feels good, hmm? My hand on your cock? Going /nice and slow/?”_ The emphasis he puts on the last phrase is agonizing, a clear command to slow down his fast pace. He strokes the entire length slowly,

“ _What about Ray’s hand?”_

The idea is so sudden, the visual entering his head before he can even stop it, makes him moan,  _loud_ , thinking back to to their last scene.

_“I bet he’d love to hear that. Moaning just for him, hmm? Whining and gasping with your fingers in his hair as he sucks your cock.”_ Gavin bucks his hips up into his hand, pretends it’s Ray’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck, o-oh,” he whimpers, way too turned on by the idea.

“ _Fucking whore. Gonna fuck you hoarse. Me ‘n Ray. Would you be a good boy for him? Show him what a good pet you are? Bet you’d like that. Make you come again and again.”_

_“_ Pl- nngh, please, sir, I nee-ed, please, let me- let me come,” he begs.

“ _Ah-ah-ah. Tell me how bad you want it. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you. Tell me how you want Ray like the desperate cockwhore you are.”_

_“_ God yes, please, fuck, want you to fuck me, want Ray, so bad, need your cock, please Sir,” he jumbles, stroking himself hard and fast. He was letting out moans like he couldn’t keep them in.

“ _Go on, pet.”_

“Please, please, Ray please, need you to fuck me, more, please sir please pl-” He cuts himself off to practically  _scream,_  coming hard.

“ _Mmnn. Such a good boy.”_

The voice that comes across the speaker is familiar.

And it’s not Michael’s.


	3. Crossdressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's venture into crossdressing. Also dirty talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - bdsm/smut. }}

Michael’s got a little open-mouthed half-grin, sitting comfortably in his chair with his feet apart on the floor. His arms are on the armrests, forearms hanging off and hands linked together. 

"C’mon!" He says, with a bit of a laugh. Gavin glowers at him, though he obeys. He starts to slowly unbutton the blouse, trying his damnedest to be sexy about it. His head is lolled back, looking down at Michael with half-lidded eyes. He bites his lip, leaves the shirt hanging off his shoulders and runs hands down his chest. his stomach. Michael nods appreciatively, gives him the courage to continue. 

He reaches down to the skirt, lifts it up just enough to get his hand underneath the fabric but doesn’t let Michael see. He hooks a thumb in the waistband of the panties, slides them down his hips as he tries to sway them, as if music were keeping time of his movements. He steps out of them and lifts them up to show Michael, flings them back over his shoulder.

Michael grins wider, beckons him close with a finger. He opens his arms up and Gavin sidles over to him, slips into his lap with a roll of his hips. He arches the small of his back forward and Michael slaps his ass over the thin material of the skirt, immediately soothes the sting by rubbing his hand over it. Gavin lets out a little ‘mmmn’ and Michael uses the time to lube his fingers from the bottle on the little table. He slides a hand along what he can reach of the back of his thigh up the curve of his ass, up under the skirt. He presses a finger into him - he’s already prepped and ready, but Michael’s always careful. Besides, he loves to tease, loves to get him riled up. Gavin knows it, but it still gets him every time. Already the one finger isn’t enough and he fucks down onto it, keening when it’s not nearly enough. 

"Greedy slut,"  Michael murmurs against his neck, sucks a dark patch into the skin as a second finger enters him, his other hand soothing circles on his ass with the skirt between their skin. He starts to slowly thrust them, too slow for Gavin’s taste. 

"Can’t ever get enough. Always want more." His free hand slaps his ass again, and Gavin moans out, nodding. 

"Maybe I should get backup. How about Ray? I see how you look at him. You want to fuck him, too. Want him to fuck you, like I fuck you?" Gavin flushes hard at this, trembles as Michael brushes his prostate.

"I bet you do. Cockslut. Maybe I should let him. Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you suck his cock," he whispers into his ear, and Gavin finds himself muttering ‘please’ over and over and realizes yeah, he wants Ray, too.

Michael’s fingers withdraw, lines his cock up. “Go on,” he says, leaning back and putting his hands on Gavin’s hips. The Brit lowers himself down eagerly, barely taking the time to adjust, hissing through his teeth because it’s so  _good._  He rolls his hips, starts to ride him. 

Gavin fucks him hard, takes him fast, setting an almost brutal pace. He tries to angle himself to the nerves inside him, mouth dropping open and eyes falling closed. He moans out, mixes of Michael’s name and nonsense.

"That’s it," Michael purrs. "There’s my boy."


	4. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has far too much to drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - bdsm relationship, smuttish. }}

"But sir, ‘m already drnnk," Gavin slurs, and Michael just pushes the glass further into his hand until his long fingers curl around it. He takes the shot and Michael tugs the leash a bit, and it cuts off breathing for all of a second but it’s enough to make Gavin let out a struggled sound. 

Another shot. Another. And another. 

Gavin can’t really stand anymore, and he’s letting out little giggles for no real reason and mumbling nonsense into Michael’s ear in that  _fucking accent_ and the ginger makes up his mind without wanting to, yanks the leash along and Gavin barely manages to stumble after, not really sure of who or where he was or even whom he was following after.

Michael doesn’t give a fuck who sees and who doesn’t, especially when he finally manages to find a vacant corner and slams Gavin bodily into the wall, ripping Gavin’s wrists behind his back and tying them together with the leash. He spins the Brit around to face front, hands pinned between his back and the wall, pressing him a little too hard against the brick and slides down to his knees, wrestling with Gavin trying not to crumple and the zipper that decided to get stuck until he  _rips_ it down and knows it’s shot to hell.

He pulls Gavin’s cock out, strokes him to hardness, wraps his lips around him and  _sucks._

"Michllll," comes the slurred whine above him, and he’s actually kind of glad he can recognize him in such a damned state. He doesn’t stop, bobbing and sucking and licking until Gavin’s moaning like a wanton slut.

"Pleeeeazzz Michuullll," he groans out, head lolling forward. “‘Ve been good boy, lemme come, ‘m good boy sirrr-ngggh."

Michael moans around him at that, at that drunken accent, and fuck it’s hot. He glowers up at the boy, and he wants to fuck him then and there, but it’s not the time or place, so instead he growls out a low and filthy “ _Come.”_


	5. Resting Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's had a rough day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - fluff }}

Michael sighed, rubbing his throbbing temples to soothe away the headache. He’d had a particularly miserable day at work - Gavin was off, he’d had to do a shitty Rage Quit, and in the middle of editing the power in the office went out and he lost all of it. All of the footage, all of the editing, all that time, gone. He just wanted to be home already, maybe relieve some tension with Gavin. 

He finally opened the door, opening his mouth to call out to his Brit, but immediately cut the sound off when he saw him lying on the couch, curled up loosely and fast asleep. He felt his heart actually drop at the sight. Sometimes he forgot just how fucking  _cute_  he could be. The kind of cute that makes sex unnecessary, the kind that makes you want to fucking cry and kiss them forever and never stop and wow how the fuck did he end up with this?

Michael shut the door silently, slipping his shoes off and trotting over to the couch, pausing to see if he’d wake. He didn’t, sunk deep into a well-needed sleep. They’d scened twice in a row, last night and that morning, and he was worked hard. A little smile ghosted his lips and Michael bent down to scoop him up. It wasn’t exactly easy, but somehow he always managed. He stepped down the hall, turning around to bump the cracked bedroom door open and backstep inside. He placed Gavin on the bed, pulling the blankets over him and leaning down to kiss him, needing no reciprocation from the unconscious boy. He slipped out of his clothes, to just his boxers, and slid in behind him, curling up with him comfortably and taking in his warmth, his scent. His eyes drifted closed and he lazed comfortably into the world between wake and sleep.

Relieving tension, after all, wasn’t always about sex. 


	6. First One's Always the Hardest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's first punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - bdsm. }}

Gavin keened as Michael’s hand came down, hard, on his ass. He was draped over his lap, supporting himself with his elbows on the bed, naked and hard. 

It certainly wasn’t his first time being spanked, but it was his first punishment. He came when the ginger had ordered him not to. He couldn’t help himself - he was just  _that_ mindblowingly good at…well, blowing him. He’d done that thing with his tongue that he only reserved for special occasions and he’d lost it. So, in a sense, maybe it was Michael’s fault…

No. He was a bad boy. He needed to be punished. His top’s hand smoothed over the reddening handprint on his ass, as if to soothe. But he knew better. The gentle touch made him tremble, part fear, part misery that he let him down. 

"Count them, boy," Michael growls from above, and he hangs his head and tries to focus, tries to be a good boy.

"One."


	7. Pretty Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's got a new style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - crossdressing, bdsm drabble. }}

Gavin shifted, fidgeting with the dress nervously. It clung to him tightly, the electric blue a compliment to the green of his eyes. He’d refused the makeup, and had kicked off the heels as soon as Michael had allowed him to. Michael smirked. He’d get used to it, in time.

For now, he stepped out of the bathroom where he’d been fixing his tie so Gavin could see him. Those eyes trained on him instantly, and he gave a reassuring smile, one that his boy tried to return. He walked up to him, reaching a hand out to adjust the one-shoulder strap of the piece.

"You look very pretty," he murmurs, before looking him in the eye. "Don’t you think so?" 

Gavin finally nods, still not meeting his gaze. He frowns, touching a hand to his cheek. He adds no pressure, but the man immediately bends to his will, finally turning his head to him, though still fighting to keep eye contact. “What’sa matter, pet?”

"Nuffin’, just…" He trails off, though Michael can infer by the way he wrings his hands, turns his feet in. He’s nervous. Embarrassed. Uncomfortable. He smiles again, encircling his arms around his waist.

He slides one hand up his back, around his neck, and dips him, resulting in a squeak. He kisses him then, slow and sweet and gentle. Reassuring.

"You’re beautiful." He lifts him back up, guiding him gently to the bed. "Let me show you how much."


	8. Popcorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !! movie night !!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - fluff. }}

Michael huffed a bit. Gavin wouldn’t  _shut up_  with these questions. 

"Michael, why’s he chasing her like that?"  
"Michael, why won’t he just turn around?"  
"Michael, why doesn’t he just combine the bat with the knives to make a better weapon?"  
"Michael, are they gonna kiss? They should kiss. I want them to kiss, Michael. Make them kiss."

It was enough to drive someone insane.

He hooked his arm around Gavin’s neck, locking him into a headlock. He held him through his initial struggle. “Gavin, shut up, I wanna watch the movie.”

He let him go after he promised not to talk anymore. Gavin snuggled back into his side, nuzzling his face into his neck. “Pay attention, moron,” he says without venom, and he’s ignored. Gavin eventually pulls off, back to his end of the couch. Michael resumed watching his movie, settling into the soundtrack again.

_Tp._

_Tp._

_Tp._

_  
_"Gavin I swear to fucking Christ if you flick another piece of popcorn at me-"

_Tp._

_“_ Okay, that’s it you little shit!” Michael said, lunging at his boyfriend to tackle him into the couch. Gavin’s giggly apology wasn’t nearly enough for him. He mushed some popcorn into the Brit’s face, grinning evilly. Gavin flipped him over and opened his mouth so wet popcorn landed on his face. 

"Ugh, that’s disgusting!" Michael laughed, wiping it off with his sleeve. He looked up at the dumb boy on top of him and pushed his face, offering a simple, "You’re an idiot." Of course, he betrayed his words by stealing his lips in a kiss.


	9. 50 Shades of No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's picked up some tasteless reading material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - bdsm. }}

"What the  _hell_ are you reading?”

Gavin glanced up from his book to Michael, who was staring incredulously at it. He’d heard the hype, but that it was ‘mommy porn.’ Finding his boyfriend curled up on the couch with it wasn’t exactly expected.

"Er, it’s called ‘50 Shades of Grey,’ and it’s abou-"

"Yeah yeah, I know what it’s about. It’s shitty BDSM." Michael wouldn’t admit it, ever, but when Gavin had asked him to be his top and he’d been researching, he read the entire thing after a forum mentioned that it was the exact opposite of what a relationship should be. 

He plucked the book from Gavin’s hands and tossed it over his shoulder. 

"Hey-!" 

Michael covered his mouth with a hand, his expression clouding over darkly. Gavin instantly quieted, and opened his hand up just as Michael placed his finger into the palm. He squeezed it eagerly, and the Jersey boy leaned closer, their lips barely touching as he spoke.

"For the next few hours, I’m gonna show you what a real Dom is like. Understood?"

Gavin could only whimper.


	10. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoff and Gus have a nice, uneventful breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ geoffgus - fluff, birthday gift for pedoshaming.}}

Gus groaned when Geoff took the toast from the toaster as soon as it popped out.

"Excuse you, that was mine," he informs him, and Geoff gives him a side-eyed cheeky grin, swiping the knife straight from his hands. He strolled over to the fridge, casual as can be, pulling out the butter. Gus rolled his eyes and turned away to put another slice in. 

Geoff left his toast on his plate on the table, taking out the eggs to crack them into the pan left on the stove. He turned it on, watching the clear liquid turn white, humming contentedly. Just as he went to flip it, Gus calmly stabbed his fork into the yolk, breaking it open all over the pan. Geoff glowered as Gus chuckled his way over to the table. 

After dumping the half-scrambled, half-sunny-side eggs onto his plate, Geoff accepted the pack of bacon that Gus handed him, neither of them looking, to busy in their own breakfast adventures. Gus pulled out the orange juice carton while Geoff started cooking some of the strips. Gus hip-checked him out of the way, nabbing the spatula as he tumbled and sliding his hand onto the handle with ease. Geoff caught his footing, and recovered to bring out the glasses to fill with the juice, putting it away after.

They finally managed to sit down and eat, enjoying a comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

Geoff stood as if to get a napkin from the counter, but when Gus brought his bacon strip to his mouth, he swooped down and bit it right out of his unsuspecting grip, chewing it with earnest as Gus finally looked up at him.

"Okay, that’s it!" He growled playfully, tackling him to the ground, their kiss more like laughing into one another’s mouths.


	11. Night Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin- fluff }}

Michael grumbles sleepily, fighting off opening his eyes. He doesn’t have to to know he hasn’t slept enough yet. In fact, he wasn’t sure why he was even awake.

That is until he finally registered the tiny sniffling behind his back.

_"Michael."_

Michael rolls over to look at Gavin, but his back is turned. He places a hand on his shoulder, but it practically vibrates how hard he’s shaking. 

"Gavvers?" He whispers into the darkness, but gets no response. He tries again, a little louder.

"Gav?"

A heavy sob shatters the quiet, and it’s like the opening of a floodgate - Gavin can’t stop the pained and terrified sobs that wrack his body. Michael props himself up on his elbow, his other arm draped over his tense body and just watching his boy. Eventually Gavin flipped over into his arms, balling his fists into his shirt and burying his face in the fabric to sob openly, and Michael can’t do much more than hold him tight and listen to him let loose. His heart absolutely breaks at the sound, and he kisses the top of the fluffy brown mop.

 _"Michael Michael please God please don’t leave me don’t let this happen to me I can’t I can’t Michael Michael…"_ He evetually just trails off into gibberish because the sobbing has turned almost violent after his words and Michael tightens his grip and kisses anything he can reach while his head is still buried in his chest.

"It’s alright love, I’m here, I’ll always be right here."

It takes a long time, long seconds and long minutes and long hours ticking into the night until Gavin’s breathing finally settles down and stops crying. Michael slips his arms away to remove his soaked shirt, and then he’s right back to holding the Brit whose head somehow lands on his chest with his ear over his heart. 

In the morning it’s never mentioned, and Michael never does learn what the dream was about, but sometimes in the night Gavin will sneak his way into Michael’s arms and tremble, and Michael is always there in the dark of the night, always right there to hold him.


	12. Inked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: gavin loves michael’s tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {{ michael/gavin - fluff. }}

They were ridiculous. Silly, even. Fellow gamers would say, “Those are really cool!” But most of the time, other people would comment and say, “Aren’t you going to regret them later in life?”

Gavin didn’t think he would. They were just so… _Michael_. 

He reached over to Michael’s closest arm, his right arm, and brushed his fingers over the skull. He liked them, he did. They showed off his real self, the happy, nerdy one that he loved. He trailed his index finger up the blood splatter, circling around the gear before tracing the lines of the skull, following each individual crack and hole. This one was a bit gruesome, true, but it was a really neat idea. 

He scooted a little closer to his lover so he could reach the other arm. He draped his arm across his chest, linking their hands and tugging the limb over so he could properly inspect it, kissing the back of his hand before letting it go. Michael paid him no heed, allowing him to continue his ministrations while he watched whatever was on the telly.

He started with his forearm, where Ganondorf stood proudly. He admired the job with his hand once more, impressed with how well done it was, and how vibrant the ink still stood. He stroked the skin down to the wrist where the foot was planted, all the way back up to the crest of his hair, crossed over the shoulders, mimicked the various markings on his armour. He pressed at the other foot so Michael’s arm would flip over to expose Link underneath.

This one was, by far, his favorite. He had a soft spot for the little green elf, and being on the underside of his arm where the skin was soft made it all the better. Especially the Hyrulian shield, its detail, what it stood for. He liked the simplicity of Link, of his simple hat and tunic. He liked to think of Michael the same; how he appeared to be so angry and mean on the outside as Link was simple, when really, he was very sweet and even friendly, as Link was tough. The thought made him smile, and he pressed a kiss to the skin painted green.

Michael finally looked over at him, cocking a brow as the Brit looked up.

"I like your tattoos, Mi-cool," he admits, as if it wasn’t obvious, stroking his thumb over the shield. Instead of a snarky response, the ginger returns his gaze steadily.

"Oh? You know, I’ve got more. Why don’t you show me how much you like them?" He asks, almost innocently, and Gavin grins.

He could do that.

**Author's Note:**

> Send prompts to carpometacarpal.tumblr.com.


End file.
